


Saffron

by Moonwanderer



Series: Bruce Appreciation Week 2018 [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Appreciation Week 2018, Bruce Is a Good Bro, BruceWeek, Cooking, Friendship, Gen, Sick Clint, Sick Natasha, Sick Steve, Sick Tony, Sickness and Healing, Team as Family, doctor banner, sick thor, sick-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonwanderer/pseuds/Moonwanderer
Summary: They are on a mission and the team got sick. Except Bruce, who has to take care of his teammates.





	Saffron

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the "Bruce Appreciation Week 2018" event.  
> Day1: "Cooking"
> 
> It's set after the first Avengers movie, in an era when we thought they will act like a family, not trying to kill each other like in the movies we got after.
> 
> Bruce is a sarcastic sweetheart, and a great cook.
> 
> I am not a native speaker, so mistakes may be found.  
> I do not own the characters, etc., etc.,...

This undercover mission was nothing but a problem for Bruce even from the start. They had to go far North to the middle of nowhere, in incognito and all, to collect and process some datas S.H.I.E.L.D. needed. Why was it so important to send the Avengers and not just some agents, Bruce didn’t know, but at this point now he didn’t really cared.

The mission went quite well- if you don’t count the occasional banters- but after they finished the easy part of the work, everyone took to bed with a nasty cold. Well, everyone, except Bruce.

So here he was, in the middle of nowhere, in a cozy little cabin, on his third day playing nurse, trying his best not to strangle his teammates.

They could be „Earth’s Mightiest Heroes”, but now they acted like a bunch of spoiled and whiny brats with their only goal to get on his nerves. Still, on his third day Bruce had enough courage to leave them alone for a short trip to the local store without the possibility to come back to a burnt down house and five smoking corpses.

It was raining in heavy, large, cold drops, and even the harsh autumn wind couldn’t dissolve the thick fog, which lay across the land like a white, damp blanket. Bruce closed the door and shook his head, sprinkling hundreds of waterdrops out of his soaked curls. He just had enough time to take off his shoes when he heard Tony whining for him.

"Bruce? You back? Bruuucie!!!"

Tony – in his normal state tough and energetic- was a pain in the ass on the rare occasions he got sick. He needed to be pampered and not to be left alone, always finding something to dislike, requiring maximal attention and devotion from the person who took care of him.

Bruce sighed and put the grocery bags down in the kitchen, then strode back to his friends.

"What took you this long?" The genius said, with a grumpy expression on his flushed face. The doctor put one of his cold hands on his forehead, more of a comforting gesture than to evaluate his temperature.

"How you feeling?"

"Horrible! This blanket is itchy. And I’m hot! And thirsty. And my head hurts." Tony complained, while lying in his nest as if he was moments away from dying. Bruce poured him a glass of water and patted his hand.

"That’s because your fever is going down. You will feel better soon. Now try to sleep a little more. I will make some soup for you."

Much to his surprise the genius didn’t make any comments about his idea, but didn’t let Bruce go away till he brought him a new blanket.

Back when the team started to show the signs of illness, Bruce suggested everyone to be in the same room, because haevens be damned if he would be willing to run from one place to another to check on them. Now he was carefully navigating between the nests of blankets which were hiding his teammates.

Natasha was awake, but Bruce knew better than to try and disturb her. Given her past, she felt very uncomfortable to be that weak that she needed to be taken care of, and Bruce was smart enough not to irritate her. It’s not a clever idea to make an assassin-super spy angry with you.

Thor and Steve were sleeping at the moment, thank goodness. The god was a nuisance in his current state, demanding to summon his mother because he was sure that he is dying. He was stronger than Bruce, and that made harder for him to restrain his friend. His patience was wearing thin and he completely lost it when the god refused to take his medicine. The only thing that worked was when he threatened him with administering the pills rectally.

The super soldier, however, used the tactics of contradiction. Whatever Bruce said or tried to do, Steve did the opposite. He refused to wear blankets though he was shivering like a leaf in the storm; didn’t want to drink enough; wouldn’t rest. But now, thank God and all that’s saint, he seemed to exhaust himself, as he was lying on his stomach, sleeping like a log. Bruce put a blanket on his form, and headed for the kitchen.

The bags were wet but their contents intact, and he found himself humming softly as he prepared the ingredients. The kitchen of the cabin was surprisingly well-equipped, and after his short trip to the store, he got everything for the soup.

It was a recipe from his mother, a rich, thick broth, which she used to make when her little Bruce fell ill. Outside the fog swirled through the hills, wet and cold, but inside warm dampness clouded the windows, as steam rose from the pot.

Bruce stood there, wearing an apron above his grey sweater, with a purple band keeping his unruly curls out of his face. His fingers held a small glass tube with a faded label. He was almost sure that he won’t find this spice here, but today he was a lucky man.

Saffron. The scent of his childhood.

His memories from the times when he was small and sick lived as a blur in his mind, but he could clearly remember his mother standing on the colorful tiles of their kitchen, amongst the good, spicy scent of saffron.

"Nice band." Came a hoarse voice from behind. Clint was there, leaning to the doorframe, shivering softly, a tired but bright grin on his lips. Though the archer was the one who had the hardest time, still he was the patient every doctor would dream of. He never complained, took the medicine Bruce handed him, and was just grateful that he got someone to have his back in his time of need.

"Thanks." Bruce returned the smile, soft and gentle. "I’m making some soup for you. How you feeling?"

"Been worse." The archer sniffed, and poured himself a glass of water. All stuffed nose and fever, and he was still able to be nice. "I bet it smells good."

"It does. Need anything?"

"Nah, man, I was just thirsty. Going back to bed, please, wake me up when you are ready, I think I could use some protein after all!"

The gods had mercy on the doctor, because no one bothered him till the soup was ready, so he could rest a little and warm up in old, precious memories of his youth.

But once he was ready, he had to face the devils again.

"I swear to all that’s saint, Anthony Stark, I won’t give you any, if you don’t start eating at this moment! What do you expect me to do, sit by your side till you’re done?"

The genius ducked his head and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"Okay, Dr. Banner, relax! There’s no need to be angry..."

"I’m not angry just done with your shit. Don’t worry, the other guy won’t pay a visit. You are not a threat just plain annoying." The doctor said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And I don’t think he would be a better nurse than me. Not that I’m so good at this..."

"Come on, Brucey, don’t be too harsh on yourself! You are the sexiest nurse I’ve ever seen!" Tony winked at him and coughed a bit.

Bruce just rolled his eyes.

"Just _eat_."

Thor was another story. The god eyed the steaming broth suspiciously, then after a good minute, he asked.

"What is this?"

Bruce let out a soundless sigh, screaming internally.

"It’s a magic broth which my mother invented to cure a cold. There’s a special ingredient in it, which will give you back your strength."

Thor’s face lit up, and he reached for the plate.

"You have to eat, Steve!"

"I’m not hungry!"

"There’s a serum in your body which makes you require more energy than an average human. Eat a little, it will make you feel better!"

Steve, for once, was willing to do what Bruce asked him to. Still, the soldier’s gaze held an annoyed edge as he let the doctor sit him up comfortably, arranging the pillows behind his back.

"You act like my mother!" The man mumbled.

Bruce shot him a sharp glare.

"Well, thank you, I’ve heard she was a really nice lady!"

The captain blushed and dug into the broth.

"We are sorry to cause you so much trouble." Natasha said, as she took her plate from the doctor.

"I am willing to take care of you, really, and I know that being sick is not much of a fun, but it’s the third day now, and I’m starting to think you are just trying to get on my nerves. Not you, Clint, you are an angel!"

The archer chuckled weakly. Tony made an indignant sound.

"Hey, that’s not fair! Why do you favor him?"

Bruce looked at him straight in the eye.

"Because he is well-mannered and knows not to nag a poor doctor when he’s got 4 more patients to treat! After you finished eating, I kindly ask you to take your medicine. I promise, if you eat one more time from my „magic broth”, tomorrow you will feel much better!"

Oh, how he wished he could rest a little! But there were datas waiting for him to process, and thus the night passed sleepless, with work and playing doctor.

It was the broth, or something else, he didn’t know, but the next day the team really felt better.

"You truly are a magic doctor, my friend!" Thor clapped him on the back cheerfully.

The team decided to let him rest, and they did the work themselves. So the end of the mission was quite okay.

But after they returned to the Tower, Bruce found himself more and more often in the kitchen, cooking for lunch or for dinner, as his friends seemed to like his food.

"Handsome, kind, but can be a „beast”, if he has to; a doctor in science with a brilliant mind and an unofficial doctor of medicine; and last but not least, a great cook! I hope you realised you’ve stuck with us, Brucie! There’s no way we will let you run away!" Tony said one day, after lunch, and Bruce laughed, finally, finally feeling at home.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, feel free to leave a comment!  
> Negative comments or comments of displeasure are also welcome, you can help me improve by pointing out my mistakes.


End file.
